


Bittersweet Synthesis

by Minalinsky



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, addressing katara's "confusion", first chapter in katara's pov, it was about zuko lets be honest, my take on a scene that should've happened, the second in zuko's, they are awkward beans, toph gives good advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24891418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minalinsky/pseuds/Minalinsky
Summary: In which Katara confronts the root of her "confusion". What follows is a certain Firebender putting his own pieces of certainty together. Still, one can't expect a seamless synthesis of the two opposing elements.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 87





	1. Blue Flower

**Author's Note:**

> When it comes to beloved ships like zutara, there are lots of key moments to adapt. This idea of confronting the confusion Katara has after watching the Ember Island Players is far from original. However, the appeal is not the idea itself, but the way in which a writer handles it. I was compelled to do my own take because I've been in Katara's situation. It wasn't all that long ago, either, I only turn 16 this upcoming August. I think teenage girls know each other best, and I was upset to see Katara's confusion never being properly addressed. So screw canon, I'll do it myself. Still, I love writing in Zuko's PoV, so the second chapter will be addressing his side of it. 
> 
> With that, I hope you enjoy! <3

Katara knew that something was wrong, and it was her shaky steps that made it abundantly clear. Usually, the strong Waterbender walked with a glint in her blue eyes, and her confident steps reflected that. These last few months had let the once scared little girl bloom into a force to be reckoned with, a young woman who knew the meaning of determination. 

However, it seemed that _none_ of those things translated into confronting her feelings. Her heart was perhaps the most daunting foe she has ever gone up against.

Katara brought a finger to stroke at her bottom lip. It hadn’t been that long since they decided to watch the Ember Island Players. For the longest while, it seemed that the only fan was Toph, who praised the comically huge actor that was chosen to portray her. However, the brash Earthbender left the theater with a sour look on her face too. No one was immune to the play’s outlandish portrayal of their adventure.

Especially Katara.

_It’s just a stupid play_ , she kept saying to herself. _They don’t know anything about you, or how you feel about Aang_.

Nevertheless, when the young Avatar kissed Katara despite her clear declaration of confusion, it made a slight fracture in the Waterbender’s certainty. In their extraordinary circumstances, one could forget about the Avatar’s age. Aang’s maturity exceeded that of any 12-year-old. That much was set in stone, yet he wasn’t impervious to the shortcomings of a prepubescent boy. 

The kiss was a reminder of that.

Katara was beginning to pace in circles. The moon hung in the starry night sky, providing enough light so that she didn’t run into the same tree that she kept on passing. What did it matter, though? She could afford to take one hit. Maybe it would knock some sense into her. There were far more pressing matters than making sense of her heart’s foul play.

“Hey, Katara!” called out a bold voice. “Sit down for a second. Your heart is beating _way_ too fast.” From the shadows emerged Toph, the no-nonsense master Earthbender. She approached Katara with a lopsided grin. 

Katara brought a hand to clench at her chest. “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” When Toph answered with a shrug, Katara looked the other way. “Never mind,” she said.

“I was going to ask you the same question, Sugar Queen, but I don’t think a good night’s rest is enough to get rid of that awful play from our brains,” spat the snarky child. Her face twisted into a grimace. “Oh, man, they really did you dirty.”

Katara wasn’t sure if Toph’s quip was to be taken in offense. She forced a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think they did us any favors.”

The two fell silent. Toph brushed a hand against a shoulder while Katara played with a lock of hair. The latter always knew that the former was an expert at reading others. 

“What’s keeping you up?” asked Toph, kicking a foot in the air. 

Katara considered her question. The Waterbender knew exactly what was pestering her, but she wasn’t sure what to exactly say. Despite Toph being two years younger than her, Katara found the smart-talking girl to be overwhelmingly endearing, like the little sister she never had. Although, Toph would act much like her older brother, sharing in Sokka’s sloth and messy tendencies. It is to say that Toph was family, and she could confide in the plucky Earthbender.

Besides, the blind bandit could tell when a soul was lying.

Katara heaved a sigh, settling down on the stone ground below her. She brought her knees close to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Toph was quick to follow, taking a crisscrossed position instead.

“I’m still not sure how I feel about Aang,” said Katara, lowering her head. “He…”

Before she could finish, Toph had already interjected. “Let me guess: he kissed you.”

Katara darted her eyes towards Toph. The girl was dragging a finger across the ground absentmindedly. “He did,” admitted Katara.

Toph kept a perpetual frown. “And did you like it?”

Something flared in Katara. The moment was playing in her mind, and it sent those wretched feelings of discomfort up to her throat. Try as she might, it was simply impossible to draw any excuse for him. Was it just expected behavior for someone so young? Was she supposed to simply stomach that? 

“No, I didn’t.” Katara felt her brows furrow. Suddenly, she found herself standing once again, legs shooting upwards in contempt. “I said I was confused!” Her voice was noticeably louder and filled with more conviction, drawing Toph in. However, she remained on the ground.

“I’m sure he feels bad about it, but I think you have the right to be upset,” said Toph. “I’m probably the last person to ask for romantic advice, Katara, but--”

Unsettled by Toph’s sudden pause, Katara quickly turned her head to gaze at her expression. The smirk that Katara had the misfortune to land upon made her stomach drop.

“What?” questioned Katara, obviously alarmed.

Toph began to snicker. It quickly became something deeper, more mocking. “ _Confused_? About what, Katara? I think it’s more than just that kiss, right?”

Katara could feel the heat reaching up to her face, giving her cheeks a pretty pink hue. “What’s so funny then, Toph?”

The misfit stood up, slapping her knee with a strong hand. “Your heart is beating _so_ fast right now. I think you’re talking to the wrong person.”

“Then who should I talk to? Suki?” replied Katara, her tone sounding quite defensive.

Toph regained her composure. She wiped a finger under her nose, nails digging into the skin. She stretched both of her arms before walking past Katara.

“Sugar Queen,” Toph drew out the teasing nickname. “Zuko should be nearby. I think _he’s_ the one you need to talk to. Well, goodnight!” 

Before Katara could further question her, the blind bandit was nowhere to be seen. She scampered off, leaving rustling bushes in her wake.

And a very red Katara. 

_Zuko? Why would I need to talk to Zuko?_ she said to herself, resuming her pacing. _He has nothing to do with this_.

Oh, how easy it was to lie to oneself. Katara knew that she couldn’t keep playing this game of denial. If she were to, then she would never enter the realm of sleep. However, talking to the aloof Firebender was easier said than done. Inexplicably, the task was a lot more approachable for Katara. Since her turn at venturing with him, the pair found that striking up conversations was considerably easier. 

Which begged the question: _why am I so nervous to confront him?_

The answer was a pill that Katara was not eager to swallow. 

The thought of Zuko gave a particular memory resurgence. Well, truth be told, there were many to contentedly remember. Yet, lately, there was something particularly striking to her, and it was the way he would look at her. It was a considerate stare made up of golden eyes that seemed to shimmer like stars, a grin just begging to be realized, and shaggy black hair playing against his tilted head. Oftentimes, the Firebender would stare longer than necessary, then receiving an inquisitive look from Katara for his efforts.

A puzzle piece was found. Certainly, Toph must have sensed the way Katara’s heart skipped a beat whenever she caught wind of Zuko’s sickeningly endearing self. 

Katara slapped a palm against her forehead. She has battled countless foes in the past few months, yet she was being bested by her troubling and indecisive heart. Perhaps it was part of being a teenager. 

She began to remember the play’s portrayal of her and Zuko’s… relationship. Suddenly, the prospect of hitting her head against a tree was all the more appealing. Nothing wanted to go her way, it seemed. 

Katara raised her head, now finding herself facing a figure shrouded in darkness. The silhouette was faint, yet it was distinguishable. She could rest her face in its shoulders and nestle against its comforting warmth, listening for the gentle beat of--

_What is the matter with you?_ scolded her consciousness. 

Katara shook her head. Toph was right, and she wasn’t about to let the conniving girl have something to smile smugly about come morning.

Katara’s steps played a confident melody. They were consistently made and had the same beat to them. No longer were they unsure. Uncertainty had been replaced with whatever certainty she could muster. Her goal was to be stealthy, to approach him with as much coolness as possible. It was doable, for Katara has done it countless times before.

Still, a part of her was wishing she had fallen asleep long ago. A dream like this one was bound to end soon. Dreams had a tendency to end right before the decisive moment. It would be the easy way out, thus it didn’t appeal to Katara.

She’s bloomed. Katara knows the meaning of determination.

“Katara? Is that you?”

She froze. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” said Zuko, a brush of worry painting his quiet voice.

Katara closed her eyes to collect herself. She exhaled and stepped forward to meet Zuko’s gaze.

He looked tired. His eyes seemed distant, and he could barely hold his lips into a stagnate frown. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” replied Katara. Her snark earned a huff from Zuko.

“Well, you said the same thing to Toph,” he said.

Katara stiffened, feeling something fall through the pit of her stomach. “You could hear us? Were you--”

Zuko raised both of his hands in defense, his expression pulling the same strings. “No, I didn’t. As soon as I heard you two, I took off. I… I don’t like to meddle into conversations.”

The corners of Katara’s mouth tugged themselves into a smile. It eased Zuko a fair bit. “I believe you, don’t worry. That last part is pretty true,” she remarked.

Something tensed in Zuko. He brought his right hand to hold at his left forearm. He looked to the side. “Do you-- I mean, would you like to sit down?”

Katara, in contrast, relaxed. Her look softened. “Yeah, I’d like to.”

The two sat by a modestly sized tree. Beautiful moonlight covered the two like a lovingly woven blanket. Though close, the two decided to sit a comfortable distance from one another. The atmosphere was hypnotizingly tranquil.

Katara stretched her legs out, allowing them to be like straight lines on a piece of paper. Zuko, much like Toph, assumed a crisscrossed sitting position.

“What would you like to talk about?” inquired Katara, staring off into a distance bathed in moonlight. However, in the corner of her eye, she could make out a familiar gaze that was locked on her.

For a moment, Katara was grateful for their distance. Her timidness wasn’t something that she wanted to display so outwardly. 

Noticing the lengthy passage of time, Zuko ungracefully withdrew his stare. Instead of making a swift and smooth turn to the side, his head jolted to his left. 

Suddenly, a new sense of determination washed over Katara: she was going to put them both out of their misery. And so, she shuffled just a bit closer to him. 

It was like water bursting through a dam. “Why do you stare at me like that?” 

Zuko was a bit dumbfounded. To say he wasn’t expecting Katara’s sudden question would be a wonderful understatement. His mouth parted as if to say something, but it promptly shut. An answer was slowly and quietly being formed. Katara sat idly by, patiently waiting.

Five seconds had passed when a voice pierced the silent night. It was both meek and sure, an impossible combination that only Zuko could make possible.

“Why not?”

Katara shifted her gaze to face him. Her face was steady. “What do you mean by that?”

Zuko didn’t look away. “Why not?” he repeated. From what Katara could make out in the stillness of the night, it seemed as though his sureness was besting his meekness. “You’re amazing, Katara.”

Her mouth parted, a quiet “Huh?” tumbled out of her lips. Katara felt her eyes dilate. 

“It isn’t just me who thinks that way, you know,” admitted Zuko. 

Her lips closed into a frown. “Okay,” she started with. Katara found herself drawing her knees towards her again, bringing them to brush against her chest. “But why do _you_ think that way?” 

His sureness fractured. He dipped his head downward. 

It was silence yet again, but Katara knew that Zuko wasn’t going to surmount it this time.

“This is going to sound weird, but I have my own way of looking at water.”

Zuko tilted his head to eye her, a brow quirked in curiosity. He lent her an attentive ear.

Katara smiled to herself before continuing. “I like to think that each drop of water is a flower petal. When petals are together, they make for a pretty flower, right? Well, each drop of water is just a part of any puddle, lake, river, or ocean. It’s like its own flower.”

Zuko’s curious look had transformed into something close to investment. The stars above were paling in comparison to his golden ones. A familiar warmth was inching closer to Katara’s heart, and it was guiding her to a place where she didn’t feel so lost: her admiration for the boy next to her.

“I never had many chances to look at flowers when I was growing up,” she firmly stated. “It was my way of seeing flowers… imagining that I was always surrounded by petals. Saying it out loud now is honestly kind of embarrassing.”

Zuko broke from his trance, resuming his normal stare. “Don’t be. It sounds like something my Uncle would say.” At the mention of his Uncle, Zuko’s face turned solemn. Katara was quick to give him a sympathetic gaze. He shook his head to continue their conversation. “Was there ever a particular flower that you wanted to see?” he asked.

Katara thought about it for a fleeting moment. “Actually, there wasn’t. I think I cared more about the color.” 

“So, what color?” Zuko was quick to say. The answer was quite obvious, and it made his insistence on an answer from her all the more endearing. 

“Blue,” Katara responded. “I assume blue flowers don’t grow all that often in the Fire Nation either, huh?”

“You’d be correct in saying that,” replied Zuko. 

In their back and forth, the two were unaware of just how much closer they were drawn to one another. Their hands could touch the other, hold the other. 

However, this was something that they both knew.

“Have you ever seen a blue flower?” whispered Katara. 

Their actions reversed the other. While Katara tilted her head upward, Zuko tilted his downward. While she approached, he withdrew in an observant stare, taking in each movement that she made. Nevertheless, there was but one that mirrored the other.

“No…” Zuko murmured as his fingers began to lace with hers. “Not until now,” 

They were unraveling.

Where does close begin and end? This was the question Katara asked herself as she crossed the borders of near and to…

To…

Something snapped in her consciousness. _What am I doing?_ it frighteningly asked.

Swiftly and abruptly, Katara pulled herself away from Zuko. She could feel a different kind of heat burning through her cheeks. Shame felt like molten lava. 

“I’m sorry, Zuko. I didn’t mean to-- I shouldn’t have--”

He was just as startled. There wasn’t any hint of hurt in his red complexion, more so confusion. “Don’t be. I-- I didn’t--” They were now talking over each other, a cacophony of embarrassed talk that led them to only a dead end.

They stood up and made a silent negotiation, and it was to not speak of what had just occurred to anyone, not even to themselves. Too taken aback, neither could form a simple “goodnight” to the other. Walking their separate ways, Katara had to bid an unwelcome return to her shaky steps.

There was something wrong, and it seemed as though the alarmingly endearing Firebender was responsible.

At least that was a certainty. She could not help but feel grateful for Toph’s push. Somewhere was better than nowhere, something was better than nothing. Still, the impending hours of daylight were weighing down on Katara, for one confrontation leads to another.

Although, a part of her wondered if it would remain so if she had given in to temptation. Whatever the reality, she was a found flower that’s already been picked.

At least that was a certainty.


	2. Red Flare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it took a lot out of me to complete this one, but I did! Sometimes a piece gets taxing to work on, and I was feeling that while working on this second half. I'm comfortable and pretty happy with the results, but I am happy to be moving on to a new one-shot idea. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this second half! It's in Zuko's PoV as promised.

His mind was in a frenzy. The weary hours of sleep that Zuko collected were not enough to quell the burning memory of what _almost_ happened. Yet, there was a spark that kept cracking and popping deep in him, the little voice in his head that told him that it _should’ve_ happened.

Zuko stomped his foot forward, shooting his torso forward as well as his right fist. A bright red and orange bursted in front of him, flickering flames consuming his vision. He exhaled in discomfort as he withdrew his arm to his side.

“Hey, Sifu!” exclaimed Aang while mirroring Zuko’s actions. The only difference was Aang’s perpetual enthusiasm. When training, however, the boy knew when to contain it. For the most part, the young Avatar was a fulfilling pupil to have under his wing. Aang did have a tendency to lose his focus and call Zuko names that he didn’t particularly care for. The latter was quite irritating.

“What?” replied Zuko, trying to keep his tone to a default. He stared aimlessly into the distance.

Aang tilted his head in curiosity. “Is there something wrong? I’m up for a break if that’s fine with you.” admitted the Airbender.

Zuko shook his head. “No, you shouldn’t be goofing off,” he said sternly.

Aang groaned in disappointment. “We’ve been training since this morning.” he protested. He pressed his folded arms against his lean frame. “You could use a break too, Sifu Hotman.”

One of Zuko’s brows twitched, yet he couldn’t find the energy to express his disdain for the annoying nickname. Instead, he bit the inside of his mouth. Walking forward, Zuko tossed both of his hands upwards. “Fine, alright! Five minutes and that’s it, okay?”

Aang wasn’t convinced. Being his inquisitive self, he was quick to catch up to Zuko. “You’re not all that happy right now, aren’t you?”

Zuko exhaled through his nose, and he could feel it burning with contempt. “There’s a lot I have on my mind, that’s all. We don’t need to talk about it. Just go enjoy your break, alright?” He passed him with a frown crossing his face. Taking refuge from the blistering sun, Zuko found himself sitting in an earnest spot of shade. The architecture of Ember Island could be a considerate thing.

Aang’s stare was alarmingly rigid. He looked on at Zuko in thoughtful silence. “I’m not all that happy right now either, Zuko,” admitted Aang. An uneasy smile was all the plucky Airbender could offer. 

Inexplicably, Zuko’s expression softened. He took a moment to consider his words before replying. “Do you want to talk about it?” offered the usually reserved Firebender.

There was evident relief in Aang’s stance. His shoulders relaxed, hands dropping low to touch his knees. “I didn’t expect that from you, Zuko, but I’d like that. I think that we…” He struggled to formulate the rest of his response. The poor Avatar was afflicted with something that Zuko was already acquainted with.

Aang shuffled about in search of the words, a hand holding his chin. Zuko drew an analytical pair of eyes on him, examining the shades of regret pulling on the Avatar’s face. Feeling like a detective, Zuko made the methodical effort to put together the complicated puzzle that was not only tormenting Aang but himself, as well.

He had a feeling it had to do with a certain Waterbender.

“So,” started Aang. He was fumbling with his fingers, looking at the stone ground below. “Did you uh-- did you notice that Katara wasn’t here to watch us practice?”

Zuko did notice; in fact, he noticed right from the beginning. At first, he wanted to believe that she was just late. Maybe Sokka and Toph were giving her too much morning trouble, or perhaps she was in the middle of a conversation with Suki. Zuko didn’t count each and every flame he and Aang created in their training, but he grew concerned when the sun was precariously hanging high in the sky, and she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

He forcefully removed the worry from his voice. “I did notice,” said Zuko.

Aang was quick to the punch. “You did?” Disbelief made each word prickle. Aware of it, Aang shook his head. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect-- nevermind.” 

Something happened between them. That was the conclusion Zuko was drawing up. But what exactly? Zuko believed that he was the sole reason for Katara’s absence. He could understand it, for even he was reluctant to confront her. However, Zuko knew Katara. The determined Katara that confronted each and every foe without hesitation would never run and hide, least of all from him, and he knew that from experience. 

Zuko withheld a grin. He always did admire that about her.

While the Firebender was lost in thought, the Airbender already found his way sitting near him. He tucked his head in his own arms. “I did something that I shouldn’t have, and I feel terrible about it,” he said solemnly. 

A strange mixture of emotions was swirling in Zuko. This situation was a fickle one, a confusing and cumbersome thing. Zuko wasn’t sure how much he should or should not say. There was a crucial bit of information that was far from the Avatar’s reach. Zuko considered it, but he was resolute to follow through with the silent negotiation he made with Katara. It was silent, yes, but he didn’t feel like it was his place to reveal it. After all, it was she who made the move.

But he wasn’t going to say no.

“Zuko?” called Aang, budging him with a hand to the shoulder. He proceeded to lightly shake the Firebender. “What should I do?”

Zuko snapped back to reality, brushing Aang’s hand off of him. He didn’t realize that he’d gone completely deaf. Still, the answer wasn’t all that difficult to find.

“Talk to her,” replied Zuko. “Communication is important.” He tacked on that last line, thinking it would suffice. 

It did not.

“Do you know something that I don’t?” asked Aang. It was a question asked with sincerity. There was not a trace of bitterness in the young boy’s inflection. “If there is, please tell me. I’m going to apologize to Katara, but I want to do the best that I can. I don’t-- I _can’t_ lose what I have with her because of one stupid thing I did!” His voice cracked at that, and he withdrew his face from Zuko in embarrassment.

Aang’s voice was now close to something like a whimper. “What do I not know?”

Empathy propelled Zuko forward, reaching a hand to pat at Aang’s back. Zuko was reminded of just how young not only Aang was, but their entire group. He was the eldest, yet he couldn’t navigate through this whirlwind of feelings that much better than Aang could.

“Talk to her,” repeated Zuko, his voice low and soft. “It’s best to trust what she says, Aang, but I am sure she’ll accept your apology.” 

Aang raised his face, still avoiding Zuko’s gaze. When a few skittish seconds slipped by, the Avatar was ready to face Zuko once more. It was a sharp look that was characterized by denial.

“I think I know what it is,” spoke Aang, treading the waters of refusal and acceptance. “I’m not sure when it exactly started, but I think I know what it is.”

Zuko retracted his hand. He sat idly by, listening carefully to what Aang had to say. 

The flames were beginning to spark within Zuko once more.

“She said she was confused,” stated Aang, gloom touching his expression. “At first, I wasn’t sure of what, and that’s why I--” He grimaced before continuing. “I kissed her. I thought that would help her figure out why she was confused.”

Zuko sat there with a thoughtful look. He could feel a semblance of tension pulling at his chest, but he kept steady and waited for Aang’s subsequent words. 

Frustration leaked into Aang’s tone. “I should’ve known better! I was just so caught up in that stupid play, thinking that the actress that played Katara was saying what the _real_ Katara felt-- felt about you, Zuko!” He tore himself away from him. “And it isn’t fair to either of you for me to be jealous about it.”

A flare emerged in Aang’s palm. The Avatar held it with trembling fingers. He examined it carefully before putting it out. His fist closed, and he looked toward Zuko.

“What do you feel for Katara?” asked Aang. The boy’s voice was wistful. “Please be honest,” he pleaded.

Zuko was anticipating the question, and he knew what his answer would entail. There was no point in lying to Aang, no point from distancing the both of them from the truth they oh so knew.

“I care about her just as much as you do, Aang.” Zuko felt his heart relax, the tension being carried off by the fluttering wind. “Just as much,” he added.

Aang took in his words with a calm, yet knowing look. The prediction he quietly made was correct. “I thought so. Ever since you two went on your trip together, I figured.”

Zuko settled his hands in his lap. “She was the first person to trust me, and I lost that trust. I told myself that I’d do anything to regain it.”

Aang looked at Zuko’s way in understanding. “And you did. You looked so happy when she hugged you.” reminisced Aang. A small smile appeared on his face when he saw the way Zuko stiffened at his words. “I know I didn’t agree with your approach, and I still don’t, but you gave Katara closure, and that’s something she’ll always be grateful for, I think.”

“You think so?” The words came so quickly that Zuko couldn’t spare a moment to think them over. As soon as he processed them, he winced. “I-- I’m glad I was able to help her.”

Aang retracted his smile, resuming a neutral expression. “Katara is amazing. She’s done so much for all of us…”

Zuko settled his hands atop his knees. He didn’t prepare a proper reply. A simple, “Yeah,” would have to suffice.

After a brief silence touched the two, Aang finally stood up. His posture was straight, his back like a vertical line. “I’m going to do the same: I’m going to earn her trust back.”

Zuko blinked twice, shaking his head when he realized that he had zoned out. “That’s the uh-- spirit.” he weakly encouraged. He truly did mean it, but the Firebender’s thoughts were far too muddled for a cohesive reply.

Where to begin? Zuko did not expect his and Aang’s exchange to be as transparent as it was. Although, his gratefulness for it was not to be outmatched. 

He stood up. “I’m happy that we talked, Aang,” admitted Zuko. He swept a hand through his unkempt black hair, looking to the side. “I know you can do it, and I know she will give you her trust back.”

“Well, you know from experience, Sifu Hotman!” The young Avatar’s peppy attitude had returned. “But I think I have it a bit easier, considering--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Zuko dismissed with a grimace. Two fingers were pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I haven’t always shown my best self to any of you. I get that.”

Aang slapped a hand against Zuko’s back, earning an irked look from the Firebender. “Stop being so hard on yourself already.” The Airbender stepped away from him with light and airy steps. “Also, I hope you didn’t mind that our break was longer than five minutes.”

Zuko glowered, telling Aang to assume a stance once more. “I didn’t think about it until you brought it up.”

Aang shrugged his shoulders at him. “Let’s quit stalling, then. I just want to get to lunch in one piece!”

Zuko sighed. The Avatar was a special person alright. He was an _especially_ perplexing person, but he was more than a trusting friend. A special thing called destiny forged their unlikely friendship, and he would be a fool to ignore its call. He’s done enough of that, after all.

Before they could carry on with their training for the afternoon, Aang had one last remark to make. With an accepting grin, the young Avatar declared, “You know, Zuko... fire and water complement each other really well.”

They then proceeded to launch synchronized fireballs from their clenched fists.

* * *

It was the time between daylight and darkness. The rays of the sun had dispersed and scattered, creating the beautiful tinge of twilight’s purples and pinks. The sun shyly hid below the horizon in its wait for moonrise. 

They had just finished dinner when Zuko decided to wander off by his lonesome. Exploring the familiar Ember Island, he was knee-deep in the waves of his torrential mind. He was busy remembering his and Aang’s conversation. By now he figured that Aang and Katara had their time to talk things over, and it was making those waves reach heights that would surely drown him. A lot of uncertainty was at play, frustrating him to no end.

Fire and water. Were they two sides of the same coin or opposites from one another? One brings destruction, the other brings creation. It was a rule as old as their living world. It was much like earth and air being on different ends. It didn’t surprise Zuko to hear that Aang struggled to learn the element of substance. He eventually got his footing, being the Avatar and all. Zuko sometimes wondered how Aang could carry the burden of mastering all four elements, knowing them inside and out, using their differences and likeness to better the world, and bring balance to it.

Maybe it was fitting to hear those words from him. _Fire and water complement each other really well_.

Zuko knew exactly what he felt for Katara. The element of change was her domain and Katara witnessed him being touched by it, taking the paths of destiny that led him to his true self. The element of power was his domain and Zuko witnessed her growth, as she became the most powerful Waterbender he had ever seen.

Moonrise made him think of her. Zuko wondered if in sunrise she thought of him.

He shuffled around aimlessly. Zuko knew he would stumble into Katara come nightfall. Still, a part of him wished to take in the dusk with her. With the words he finally wanted to tell her, it seemed ideal. Between daylight and darkness was the mystery of what’s to come. Neither of them could predict the future, but Zuko was more than willing to brace that mystery, so long as Katara would be by his side.

One element couldn’t exist without the other. Much like earth and air, fire and water didn’t exist as opposites. They were the other’s complementary element. And so, a synthesis was more than possible. An idea like this one seemed impossible to fathom once upon a time, but Zuko has learned a great deal since his and Katara’s first meeting. 

What was impossible has become possible. 

She was sitting by a pond. Stones both big and small lied around the body of water. The grass was tall enough to hide her lower half. Around Katara was an array of blooming flowers of different colors. The natural bouquet of reds and whites made Katara stand out. No longer was she wearing her Fire Nation clothing. She was wrapped in blue. 

A growing smile made Zuko’s lips quiver. A blue flower was in his presence. 

There was a sudden _snap_ sound that reverberated through the quiet air. Looking down, Zuko found that he had stepped on a twig. It was in halves underneath his shoe. 

Katara peered over her shoulder. She didn’t look all that frightened. Amusement made up her curious stare. “Is that you, Zuko?”

Displeased with his lack of poise, a hint of irritation infiltrated into Zuko’s tone. “It is,” he almost grumbled.

In response, Katara let out an airy chuckle. “I remember you being a lot stealthier. Already rusty?” she teased.

This was not going his way. However, Zuko found solace in Katara’s levity. It was in stark contrast to the timidity and unsureness she had on display yesterday. He felt the same way too, but he was doing a pretty poor job showing that.

“You never let up, do you?” Zuko answered as he approached her. Katara showed no problem with having him near. “First it was saying that the actor got me ‘spot on’. Now, this?”

Katara shrugged her shoulders. She was matching his grin. “I like being honest,”

For a moment, the two were captured by the other’s steady gaze. Zuko found Katara’s blue eyes to be especially captivating. It was a welcoming ocean of beautiful blue-- an already pleasing color made all the more wonderful. 

He was struggling for the words to say. Where to begin, where to start?

Zuko was done with _what-if_ and _should have_. The present will be what they make of it, and he had quite a clear vision for it. 

Katara seemed to have had the same idea. “About yesterday…” she started with. She broke her stare, shifting her gaze to the side. “It was not in my place to-- I mean, I shouldn’t have--” She frowned, shaking her head. “It was what I wanted, but--”

“Do you still want to?” Zuko didn’t mean to interrupt her, and it was not his desire to. The question fell from his lips so fast that he couldn’t quite process it. As soon as he took in Katara’s wide stare, Zuko winced at himself.

“That sounded terrible.” he detested. “I didn’t mean it like that. Not in a selfish way, I promise.” He distanced himself from her. “I can’t do this,” Zuko muttered to himself. 

Katara reached a hand toward him. To his surprise, she didn’t seem upset by his words. Her concern was solely on him and his self-reprimanding. Katara scooted next to him, putting a hand atop his back.

“Yes, you can,” she coaxed, her voice soft and sweet. It was enough to bring Zuko back to rationale. He shifted to face her once more. 

“You don’t need to apologize. I wanted to.” There was no need to whisper, considering the modest distance between them and the rest, yet Zuko found himself doing so all the same. “I would’ve kissed you back, Katara.”

Her hands were now in her lap. Katara’s expression never faltered. It was relaxed and steady. Faltering with her next choice of words, however, her head dipped slightly. “Isn’t it such a mess, Zuko? Everything feels so bittersweet. With everything going on… it feels almost silly, doesn’t it?” she said with a weak laugh.

Zuko rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, it does.” He focused his vision on the ground below, his eyes locked on a single stone. “It really does.”

Katara went quiet, but Zuko could feel her stare on him. In their shared silence, Katara moved toward him. She was closer now than ever before, her side brushing against him. She was close enough to rest her head on his shoulder.

And that she did.

“I don’t feel confused anymore,” Katara sneaked an arm around his. “I know how _I_ feel, and I know what _I_ want.” 

Zuko wanted to melt. Not out of embarrassment. Far from it, really. The certainty, the sureness in Katara’s voice was like a gentle melody. The notes were graceful, and it made him happy-- happy that _she_ felt this way, and that she no longer had to brave a storm. The way she settled next to him made it all the more evident. 

“We can take our time,” suggested Zuko. He rested his head against hers, taking in the sight of dusk being reflected off of the pond’s still and calm waters. 

She moved against him so that their eyes could meet. Katara smiled at him. “I’d like that.”

The fleeting moment was broken by a healthy helping of water to Zuko’s face. He didn’t pay mind to the flick of Katara’s wrist, meaning that he wasn’t prepared for her little surprise attack. It wasn’t really like an attack, but it felt like one. Katara’s laughter didn’t help.

“Hey!” He shook his head as if Katara didn’t have the ability to dry him off almost instantaneously. This only made Katara laugh even harder.

“That was way too easy. You get so distracted.” Katara tried to muffle her snickering by bringing her palm to her lips.

“Only by you,” He almost grinned when he noticed a red playing against Katara’s face. She stood up, her back against him. Zuko knew that she was feigning her frustration, but he found it entertaining all the same.

Everything felt too good to be true. Still, Zuko felt as though he hasn’t said enough. He wanted to make sure that everything was clear, that everything was as transparent as glass.

“This is what _I_ want, Katara.” 

She turned on her heel. Her cheeks were pushing up against her eyes, and her lips were curving upwards. Crossing their distance, Katara wrapped her arms around Zuko’s neck and embraced him. Just when Zuko was going to do the same to her waist, Katara caught him off guard. As she drew away, Katara pressed her lips against Zuko’s cheek in a brief yet tender kiss.

Zuko stilled in disbelief. Did… did that actually happen? Or was this dream going on for far too long? No. This wasn’t a dream. 

“We can take our time,” she repeated to him. Katara took him by the hand, their palms and fingers fitting perfectly against the other. Zuko felt like he was being dragged around, for his mind kept drawing a blank. Who knew happiness could be so intense?

For now, fleeting moments would be their everything. Until the rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place making the most out of each and every present would have to suffice. Still, Zuko nor Katara expected a seamless synthesis of the two seemingly opposing elements.

After all, they were a blossomed flower and a passionate flare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can probably tell that I wrote most of this in one night. Anyway, I'm glad to have another zutara work under my belt. Well, thanks for reading, and I hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night!
> 
> P.S. My source of inspiration was the song, _Yabu no Naka no Synthesis_ by Yoshino Nanjo. The kanji is 藪の中のジンテーゼ, so be sure to use that if you want to listen to it!


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